


Angels Can't Die, Can They?

by DeansDirtyLittleSecret



Series: Angel and Demon [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood, Demon Cure, Demon Dean Winchester, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Kidnapping, Multiple Points of View, NSFW, Pain, Reader-Insert, Torture, angel trying to save demon!dean, death of demons, demon abuse, demon!dean saving an angel, hurt Angel, reader is an angel, use of grace to heal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-07 17:24:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4271652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeansDirtyLittleSecret/pseuds/DeansDirtyLittleSecret
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The reader, an angel, has been kidnapped and is being tortured. Demon!Dean can feel it all and he's pissed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Angels Can't Die, Can They?

**Author's Note:**

> The viewpoint switches back and forth between the reader and Demon!Dean. Reader's viewpoint is in italics.

The car drifted to the side of the road, the engine cutting out and sputtering to a stop as my foot eased off the gas. I barely managed to shift into park because I was gasping for air, my hand clawing at my throat, desperately trying to breathe as black spots filled my vision.

_Can’t breathe, can’t fight, your grace is weak, you can feel yourself falling. Someone caught you just before you hit the ground, you looked up and saw black eyes in an unfamiliar face. You gasped for air, Dean’s name on your lips._

As suddenly as it had begun, it was over, nothing but my own name ringing in my ears as I drew in a deep breath, filling my lungs. “What the fuck?” I muttered, rubbing a hand over my face. “Y/N?” I was tempted to look around for her, even though I knew she wasn’t there, that what I was feeling was not happening anywhere near me.

Obviously, the connection between the two of us had returned. I’d known it had, I’d known she’d done it again, that her grace had consumed me, flowed into me when I’d fucked her up against that wall. And now, I could feel it eating at me, working at me, and while she’d sworn it wasn’t on purpose, I wasn’t sure I believed her.

But I didn’t know what this was, these images in my head, the choking feeling, Y/N being taken by demons. Was it a ploy to get me to go to her? I knew she was helping Sam, helping him find me, which is why I was trying to stay two steps ahead of her. I never should have done what I’d done, never should have let her get to me.

I dug in my pocket for my phone, fighting to pull it loose of the tight denim surrounding it. Once it was free, I stared at it for several minutes, contemplating my options. I could call her, fall into the trap, make it easier for her to get me sooner, let Sammy get to me. Or I could ignore it, move on, drive away and put as much distance as possible between us. Avoid the inevitable.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, took a deep breath and came to a decision. I started the car and pulled back out onto the road, no particular direction, just the road in front of me. My angel was quiet, for now.

* * *

_The slap snapped you awake and knocked your head into the back of the chair. You opened your eyes, squinting at the dim light filtering through the dirty windows. Typical, shitty, abandoned house in the middle of nowhere. God damn demons didn’t have any imagination whatsoever. You struggled to remember what you could beyond the demon choking you until you’d passed out, but you could only remember snippets - trees, a paved road that became a dirt road, multiple buildings, like you’d find on a farm or ranch of some kind, being dragged from a car and tied to the high-backed chair in the middle of what had once been a living room. You’d counted at least three demons, but there might have been more._

_They left you alone for several hours, your muscles growing stiff and achy as you waited for whatever it was they wanted you to wait for. Eventually they came, asking questions._

_But they didn’t like your answers._

I came awake suddenly, like a slap to the face. I pushed myself up and off the bed so quickly that a wave of dizziness washed over me. I felt pain tearing through me, my arms and my legs felt like they’d been cut with a million knives, my face felt swollen and puffy, my muscles felt stiff and sore. I stumbled across the room to bathroom, fumbling with the light switch. I leaned over the sink, staring at myself in the mirror, expecting to see bruises and cuts covering my body. There was nothing.

A sudden sharp pain in the back of my head caused me to fall forward, my head cracking against the glass hard enough to break it, a cut blooming just above my eyebrow and quickly healing. Screams of pain echoed through my head, painful enough to nearly bring me to my knees. I scrambled to stay on my feet, knocking a cheap bottle of shampoo, a water glass and an ice bucket to the floor.

“Y/N?” I gasped. Jesus, I could feel her, her pain was a tangible, living thing, encompassing her like a cocoon.

I’d been wrong, it wasn’t a trick to draw me out, it was real. Someone had her, my angel. They had her and they were hurting her, torturing her. My angel.

And they were doing it to get to me.

* * *

_ You could taste blood in your mouth and your vision was tinted pink by the blood pooling in your eye. You were shivering uncontrollably, the cold of a miserable winter’s day had settled over you, had moved into you. You flexed your fingers, trying to get feeling back into your hands, but the movement pulled at the shredded muscles in your forearms, forcing a scream from the back of your throat, blood splattering over your chin. The only coherent thought you could form was one name. _

_Dean._

I pushed the Impala harder than I’d ever pushed it, either as a demon or when I’d just been myself. She wasn’t far, but she was far enough that if I didn’t get to her soon, the demons holding her would kill her. They were tearing her apart, using an angel blade to torture her, to force her to tell them where I was. I could feel every cut and every mark, I could feel her blood dripping from her veins. Stupidly, she refused to tell them.

I pounded my fist against the steering wheel, furious with her for trying to protect me. It didn’t matter, because if these were Abaddon’s demons, those few unorganized assholes who thought they could bring me down for what I’d done to their redheaded leader, I could deal with them, I had already dealt with several of them. I glanced at the passenger seat where I’d set the First Blade, still caked with the blood of the last demon I’d killed. I could definitely take care of them.

I drove through the night, following her, letting my connection to her lead me. It was just barely dawn, the sun turning the sky blood red, the color burned into the back of my eyelids, the color of my angel’s blood, when I finally found her. I followed the dirt road nearly to the end, pulling beneath a stand of trees a hundred yards from the house where they were holding her. I could still feel her, but the pain was nothing more than a dull ache throbbing through my body. I was sure she had passed out.

I took the Blade in my hand and climbed from the car, hurrying the rest of the way up the dirt road. I stopped in front of the door long enough to take a deep breath, then I raised my foot and kicked the door, right next to the knob, shattering the wood. I wanted to make an entrance.

_You felt him as soon as you started to come to, a brief flicker of his face, his brows drawn together over his coal black eyes and a look so terrifying on his face that he might have killed the demons holding you with just a look. He was here, he was close._

_“Dean?” you murmured, struggling to force yourself to consciousness._

_You heard the front door explode with a loud crash. The demon standing over you with an angel blade stepped away from you, silently crossing the room to stand just to the side of the open doorway, hiding in the shadows. You could hear shouts and screams coming from the front of the house, then a flash of orange colored light._

_“Y/N?” you heard Dean yell. There was another crash, several loud grunts, then another flash of orange light._

_“Come on, angel, where are you?” Dean called again._

_All you could muster was a strangled moan before another demon wrapped his arm around your neck and put a hand over your mouth. You tried to struggle, to break free, but you were too weak._

I called her name, but I couldn’t hear if she answered when I was occupied with a demon coming at me from out of nowhere. I used my forearm to hit him and send him to the floor. He pushed himself to his feet and rushed me. I pulled the First Blade from my jacket and slammed it into the middle of his chest, grinning in satisfaction as orange light poured from his wound.

She was close, my angel, I felt her. “Come on, angel, where are you?” I called again.

I heard a moan from the other room, then abrupt silence. I spun the Blade in my head, carefully crossing the room, not out of concern for myself, but for my angel. If I wasn’t careful, the demons could kill her. They had what they wanted, they had drawn me here, so there was no reason to keep her alive. I had to kill them before they did anything else to her.

I slowed my pace, easing forward silently. The room ahead of me was dark, but I had no trouble seeing Y/N in the middle of the room, tied to a chair, a demon behind her with his goddamn filthy arm around her neck and his hand over her throat. I stepped into the room, my arm immediately going up to stop the angel blade headed directly for my jugular. I shoved the demon backward, slamming her into the wall. She groaned, then pushed herself forward, her hands like claws as they settled around my neck.

I swiped the Blade down her leg, slashing it wide open. A bloodcurdling scream filled the room as she dug her nails into my shoulders, drawing blood to the surface.

“Kill the angel,” she screamed.

Something snapped inside of me and I was gone. My vision narrowed until I was focused only on the two demons in the room. I brought the First Blade up and slashed it across the throat of the female demon wrapped around me, nearly severing her head from her body. We fell to the floor and I pushed her off of me, rising to my knees. Without looking I threw the Blade, trusting it would find its intended mark. I heard a grunt of surprise as I turned, the demon holding Y/N falling to the floor at her feet, the Blade buried in his shoulder.

I was across the room before the demon could so much as flinch, my boot heel coming down on his wrist. I slammed my other foot into his face, immensely satisfied at the sound of bones crunching beneath it. I bent over and twisted the Blade in the demon’s shoulder, relishing the screams of pain I caused. I smiled before yanking it free and shoving it into the demon’s eye, watching as he squirmed and bucked for several seconds before exploding in orange light. I pulled it free and tucked it back into my jacket. Then and only then did I turn my attention to the angel bound to the chair beside me.

“Holy fuck,” I groaned when I finally looked at her. She was...she was destroyed. Her face was covered in bruises, one eye was swollen almost completely shut, she had multiple cuts on her cheeks, and a large gash on her forehead. Her left arm was shredded; deep, gaping wounds that cut through the skin and muscle. She had several, long cuts to her torso, deep, but almost superficial compared to those on her arm. Her legs were covered in thick red blood, congealing in the wounds covering her legs. Blood was dripping to the floor beneath her seat.

I kneeled in front of her and carefully untied the ropes holding her to the chair. She stirred, one eye opening and squinting at me.

“Dean,” she breathed, my name nothing more than a quiet exhale, so quiet I could barely hear her, despite the fact that I was only inches away.

I reached out and carefully pulled her into my arms. I stared at her face, one I was so familiar with, one that appeared in my dreams every night, one that never left the forefront of my thoughts, one that I barely recognized through the wounds now covering it. I couldn’t see my angel beneath the horror they had inflicted on her.

_You felt warmth surrounding you for the first time since the demons had grabbed you. Every cut from the angel blade the demons had used on you had sent a shot of ice through your veins, to the point of freezing. You could feel your body shutting down, the life flowing from you, your grace leaving you. You were too weak to do anything, too weak to move and too weak to heal._

_Strong arms lifted you, holding you close. You turned your face into the broad chest and inhaled, filling your nose with the scent of Dean. At least you’d get to see him one last time before you died._

_“You’re not going to die,” he hissed. “Knock it off.” Dean’s hand tangled in your hair and pulled your head against his shoulder. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, then you were moving, the smell of dusty, mildewed air replaced with the smell of fresh air and grass and trees._

Maybe she was going to die. Her breathing was shallow and she was cold to the touch. I held her close to my chest as I hurried back to the car, mumbling to her (and maybe myself) that she wasn’t going to die, I wasn’t going to let her die. Angels couldn’t die, not unless they were stabbed with an angel blade through the heart or some other vital organ. They couldn’t die, she couldn’t die. Not like this.

I reached the car and somehow managed to open the back door. I slid into the back seat with my angel still in my arms. I laid her across the seat, her head in my lap, and yanked the door closed. There had to be something I could do, some way I could save her.

“Just let me go,” she whispered.

“Bullshit,” I growled. “That is not happening.” I brushed her hair off of her forehead, trying to be gentle. I couldn’t understand why she hadn’t healed. She was an angel for fuck’s sake.

“I don’t have enough grace,” she moaned painfully, shifting in my lap. “I can’t heal. But it’s okay, I’ll be fine.”

Realization hit me like a fucking freight train. “Your grace,” I murmured. “It’s depleted because of me, isn’t it?”

She stared at me, her beautiful eyes unblinking. “Does it matter?” she whispered. She drew in a stuttering breath and slowly blew it out.

I took her hand and intertwined our fingers. “Yeah, it does,” I said. I put my other arm around her back, pulling her up so she was closer to me, leaning over her. I closed my eyes and pressed my lips to hers, concentrating.

I felt her grace as it moved through me and into her. She groaned, her hand clamping down on mine, her nails digging into my skin. It didn’t last long, just a few seconds, but I knew as soon as it was gone. I felt an emptiness, the grace inside me having flowed into her. I pulled back, watching as the cuts on her arms, legs and her forehead healed, though not completely, maybe not enough. She blinked, then her hand crept around the back of my neck and pulled me back to her, kissing me. Her tongue danced over my lips, the kiss deepening noticeably.

I could have taken her right then, right at that moment, but I forced myself to pull away. She wasn’t completely healed, her arm and torso were still cut to pieces, her eyes were still filled with pain. I didn’t think all of her grace had been returned to her, I could still feel it inside me, still feel the connection between us.

“Y/N,” I murmured. “It didn’t work.”

“I know,” she said. “Sorry.” Her eyes fluttered closed and she went limp in my arms.

* * *

_ The sound of a door opening and closing brought you back to consciousness. You opened your eyes when the bed moved as someone sat beside you. A pretty brunette was sitting on the edge of the bed, watching you. _

_“Hannah?” you moaned, pushing yourself up to lean against the pillows propped behind you. “Where am I?”_

_“Motel,” she replied. “Dean left you here, called Castiel, said you needed help.”_

_“You’re helping Castiel?” you asked._

_“You could say that,” Hannah mumbled. “What are doing Y/N? Using your grace to try and heal a demon? Have you lost your mind?”_

_You didn’t answer Hannah, just pushed yourself off of the bed and into the bathroom, slamming the door behind you. You looked in the mirror, examining yourself. The cuts and bruises were gone and you felt better, though still weak. You closed your eyes and reached out, searching. Dean was close, though you didn’t know where exactly. But you could still feel him. That was all that mattered._

* * *

I watched the stripper slide down the pole, Warrant’s Cherry Pie echoing through the room. But I didn’t see her, didn’t care about her. All I could see was my angel, broken and bleeding. The demons who had hurt her had paid with their lives. But it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.  

 


End file.
